Written on the Wall
by La Sorelli
Summary: <html><head></head>A small one shot I was slightly inspired to write after watching Black Swan. Christine's POV.</html>


Nothing seemed to go right after the masked ball. The first day of rehearsals for the dreaded _Don Juan_ _Triumphant _was a complete nightmare. It all began when M. David, our general director, started to pass out the librettos. He looked extremely nervous the entire time. When he handed me the first libretto, I knew the ridicule was not far. Chewing on my lip I opened it up and saw my part written out in enormous, familiar red penmanship; 'CHRISTINE DAAÉ-AMINTA (LEADING SOPRANO). M. David shakily and almost robotically murmured, "Congratulations," before quickly moving on. It did not take long for the others to see the brash red writing on the top of my script. The whispering started, going around the circle until it reached the ears of La Carlotta.

"What…?" she asked aloud, quietly at first, but her voice slowly rose to its customary shrill and the whispering deceased, "_I _have been cast as a part with only _one_ solo line and _she is the lead?_ This…_poco puttana_?" She jabbed a bejeweled finger in my direction. "Do you all see this?"

I stared down at the floor of my solitary spot in the circle. Yet, I could still feel everyone's disbelieving, angry glares on me. Even some of the girls from the chorus and the ballet, who had once been my friends, were giving me looks of absolute disgust. The murmur of whispering started up again. M. David warily walked over towards Carlotta.

"Madame Carlotta...please, don't do this right now." M. David implored with the fuming diva.

"I have been cast as a _hag! _ _Una megera_! Do you not understand?" she shrieked at him, waving her libretto around like a lunatic.

"I do understand but Signora, you must try to understand…"

"No! I refuse! I will speak to the managers about this!" she hurled her libretto at him and stretched out her arm for Signor Piangi. He took it proudly and they stomped off together in a great cloud of ego.

M. David looked around desperately, wringing his hands, heaving a great sigh in my direction and then quickly disappearing after Carlotta and Piangi. I was left alone now, without his protection. My eyes searched for Meg or her mother within the ballerinas but I could not see her. I had hardly seen either of them since the masquerade. Clasping my fingers together I backed away from the crowd, only to run into a tulle skirt.

"Backing out are we?" Sorelli's melodious voice asked tauntingly. I looked at her, standing against the wall with one exquisite leg bent up against it and the other flexing up and down against the floor.

"I did not ask for this role." I told her firmly.

"Of course, you didn't." she nodded with sarcastic empathy. "But you see…it's what happens when you sleep with the mysterious, madcap of a composer. _And_ with the patron…._brava_ Miss Christine, I applaud you. Who'd have ever thought you were capable of such deviousness?"

"I have not slept with anyone." I snapped at her.

"Oh be honest with yourself." she sneered, switching her legs around and flexing the opposite. "There is no point in denying what you willingly did."

"What are you talking about? Where have you received such horrible lies?"

"Do not tell me you don't know!" she gasped mockingly, "why! It's been the rumor for quite some time. Ever since you started vanishing…"

"Rumor? What is the rumor?" I demanded tumultuously. She slid her leg down and put her hands on her narrow hips, looking at me at laughing quietly to herself.

"You don't speak Italian do you? I thought opera singers were supposed to know all the prominent European languages. Then again, you are just a frigid little farm girl from the fjords, aren't you? You would not know what it was Carlotta called you…what _everyone_ is calling you…"

"Sorelli, what did she call me? Tell me."

She laughed unpleasantly again, "My dear girl, she called you a 'little whore'."

My insides suddenly became painfully twisted. "No, I am not! I am not a whore…" I shook my head furiously at her. She only smirked at me before turning around and waltzing off into the darkness backstage. Quivering all over, I started to cry.

When I returned to my dressing room later, I turned on the light and saw it…written on my mirror in bright, red rouge,

"WHORE."


End file.
